


Vivace

by Divineamaterasu



Category: The Mandalorian (TV)
Genre: Arranged Marriage, Charater Development, F/M, Force Sensitive OC, Sheltered Life, Slow Burn, after season 2, oc working through childhood trama, writer is new to fandom
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-01-05
Updated: 2021-01-17
Packaged: 2021-03-16 06:09:40
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 10,734
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28577286
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Divineamaterasu/pseuds/Divineamaterasu
Summary: Cantonica is a planet of gambling and business arrangements. Anything could be bought if one had the credits. Anything. Even her. Attachments were thin when daughters were for sale. But one of the men at the table is different, head to toe in steel armor. He had a proposition of his own. One that led to a way out. To freedom.
Relationships: Din Djarin/Original Female Character(s)
Comments: 2
Kudos: 12





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Hi! I’m late to the Mandalorian party and new to the Star Wars fandom! I’ve decided to jump in headfirst, so here I am.   
> I will put the usual disclaimer I do on all my fics: I’m really bad at editing! Correct me, ignore, whatever you wanna do! I’m open to constructive criticism.  
> I hope you enjoy!

With a downbeat, her song began to play. A minuet. She raised an arm, fingers not too curled, but not too straight either. Only a slight bend in the elbow.

One two three. Two two three. One foot forward, toes pointed, arch back. Rotate neck ever so slightly, two three.

At the long table ahead sat the parents. Hers were on the far left. Her mother had an exaggerated smile on her face, mouthing the same words she always did while pointing to her mouth.

Step back, two three. Not too far though, the dress was short and could expose too much. Spin to face the suitors. Bend at the hips, two three.

A glint of silver.

Never had a man, nor alien wore full armor here before. Far more formal wear was required.

Spin again to face the other way, towards the other girls dressed in silk, frowns on their faces. The song was nearly over. There were only a few more girls waiting for their turns. Then it would be over.

With one last step and arch, the song ended.

She turned towards the parents and bowed. Her mother frowned now, whispering something to her father. No one clapped.

Next, she turned to the table of suitors. They sat with one chair spaced between them. Occupying some of them were the girls that already danced.

One of the men stood up, the same one that stood the year before.

She bowed to him, then proceeded to the table. The chairs to either side of him were empty, one beside a blue skinned Mythrol, and one beside the armored man.

She sat between the suitor and the armored man. The suitor that stood two years in a row took her hand and kissed it.

“Allow me to get you a drink,” he whispered.

As he excused himself, the next dancer began with her selected song. Unlike most of the other girls, her movement didn’t look as forced. She lacked the heaviness that most of them had. Perhaps she looked forward to being chosen.

“Can I ask you a question?” A quiet voice came from her right. It was electronic, like a droid, but had more emotion.

Her eyes slid to the side. The armored man’s helmet was facing her. Was he speaking to her? It was hard to tell when his eyes were hidden behind thin black visor.

The helmet tilted forward, ever so slightly.

She leaned towards him while facing ahead. “Are you talking to me?”

“Who does it look like I’m talking to?” The question was rhetorical.

This man, or droid—or whatever he was—didn’t know what was going on? And talking to her? He definitely wasn’t supposed to be here.

How interesting.

Her eyes flickered across the room before falling back on the man’s helmet. “It’s a ball. And you didn’t stand, and therefore are not supposed to talk to me.”

“This is a ball? Not a single person looks happy to be here.” He gestured to the dancers specifically.

Happy? There was nothing to be happy about. Even the band lacked the usual enthusiasm characteristic of the planet’s music. The music was somber.

“The Canto Silarian Ball isn’t about a good time. Like everything else on this planet, it’s a business transaction.”

“If you’re selling skill, you might want to try a different profession,” he said.

He truly did know nothing. What was he doing here? How did he even get in?

“It’s not our skills that are for sale, it’s our bodies.”

The man’s helmet sharply turned back to her. “This is prostitution?”

She shook her head. “Worse.” She glanced at him from the corner of her eye. “Arranged marriage.”

The man looked around the room as if reassessing the situation. “Is this normal?” His voice was almost too quiet to hear.

He sounded…alarmed. Perhaps the reaction suited him; foreign in both appearance and response.

Suitors came from across the galaxy in search of an easy wife, happy to take the scraps the men of the planet deemed unworthy of their attention. They boasted about wealth and openly critiqued the girls bodies as they danced. But this man was disturbed by it.

Were there more like him?

“It’s an easy way to make money when your daughter comes of age.” She looked at the other girls. “The lack of skill is intentional.”

“That explains why none of you are smiling.”

“It normally works for us.” Her eyes wandered to the suitor conversing with another, drinks in hand. “Unfortunately for me,” She leaned in closer to the man. “He likes how I frown.”

He followed her gaze. “So you have no attachment to him?”

Attachment? These men could be fed to the creatures of the sea for all she cared. The same suitor stood for her the year before, but her parents wouldn’t accept his offer.

“No. I don’t even remember his name.”

The man’s helmet faced the dancing girl as he spoke. “Would you be willing to help me out then? I can pay you handsomely.”

Of course. It made sense now. The armor, the ignorance to the ball. “You’re a bounty hunter,” she whispered, also facing the next girl who dipped and twirled listlessly.

He only nodded in reply.

“You’re not going to kill him, are you?”

He shook his head.

“I can get him alone after, if that works.”

His helmet inclined. “That works.”

The suitor placed down her drink and sat down. He smelled of expensive cologne but to such an extent it tasted bitter on her tongue. He was well groomed and dressed in fine robes, probably traditional from where he came. The same place he would take her if not for the armored man’s proposition.

“It is a shame your legs weren’t more dainty like hers,” he commented, gesturing to the newest dancer.

She nodded, not turning away from the girl. It truly was, wasn’t it?

Her drink sat untouched for the remainder of the night. After the last dancer, the girls who weren’t chosen left with their parents. The girls who remained at the suitors table stayed put as the parents approached the men to negotiate.

The armored man got up to leave with the rest of the suitors who didn’t choose a girl. He gave her the slightest tilt of the head before turning away. Her eyes followed the flow of his cape.

With the distraction gone, there was nothing else to focus on than her father speaking to the suitor. Her mother nodded along, a smile plastered on her face. Things must have been going well, perhaps the suitor was offering a higher price this year. Nothing would make a parent prouder, after all.

She shared glances with the other girls seated at the table. Frowns, pouts, teary eyes. Some held hands, sisters about to be seperated, most likely.

Her father’s palm landed on her shoulder. “Good news, child. Sodun has accepted our offer.”

“Just in time, darling. Five long years and someone finally sees your true value!” Her mother joined.

She closed her eyes and exhaled. She’d been so close, so close to freedom. Now this man would take her back to wherever he was from. Settle down in a life chosen for her and be controlled by a man who liked the way she frowned.

The armored man better go through with whatever he was going to do. He looked capable enough to take out Sodun, or whatever his name was. But appearances could be deceiving.

“May I be accompanied on a walk this evening?” she asked her father.

He grinned. “Oh, so you do like him. I thought I saw a glimmer in your eye across the table. You may go, if Sodun agrees.”

Sodun’s face split into a smile “I would be honored.”

“Thank you,” she said.

They exited the grandiose building onto a busy street. The casino wasn’t far ahead. Instead, she directed Sodun in the opposite direction, towards a quieter part of the city.

Hopefully the armored man was following. Her eyes darted between buildings and in and out of the shadows. That’s how bounty hunters worked, wasn’t it?

Sodun’s voice pierced against the quiet streets. The sheer volume and lack of restraint towards commenting on the poor state of the buildings only highlighted his obliviousness to the situation. His common sense was utterly nonexistent.

A glint of silver.

He wasn’t in the shadows at all.

Sodun stopped in his tracks. The armored man stood dead ahead of them. His stance was menacing, and his hand hovered just above the holster of his blaster.

“What is this?” Sodun’s demeaner completely changed to something akin to a petulant child.

The armored man didn’t move an inch. “A setup.”

Unlike Sodun, the armored man’s voice was quiet. It didn’t bounce off the buildings or grate against the breeze. It was stoic, disciplined.

Sodun’s head snapped in her direction. “You were in on this?”

He made a move to grab at her, but stopped when a blaster shot rang out. It drew his attention back on the armored man “What I’m doing is totally legal on this planet, you can’t do anything about it.”

“I’m not an officer. I’m a bounty hunter.”

Sodun’s demeanor changed yet again. From arrogance, to anger, and now to fear. It only flashed across his face for a moment, then he fled.

He only made it a few steps before something shot out past her. It made contact with him, and with a yank, he was reeled back and onto the ground.

The armored man walked towards Sodun who writhed on he ground, groaning in agony and attempting to clutch his lower back. Once he made it to him, he cuffed him and yanked him off the ground. Without hesitation, he searched Sodun’s pant leg and retrieved a pouch. He looked back at her, nodding his head.

She approached. Between the cuffs and the armored man’s hold, Sodun wasn’t going anywhere. He held out the pouch and dropped it into her hands. It was full of credits.

Was this what he was going to pay for her? Was this the price of her life?

“You can’t take that!” Sodan said through gritted teeth.

“No laws against stealing from thieves,” the armored man replied as he began to drag him off in the direction of the casino.

Was that it then? It was over as soon as it began. The man did what he said he was going to do, and she was free for one more year.

He stopped and half turned back to regard her. “Thanks for your help.” Was all he said before continuing on.

She jogged back home in the darkness.

.

Sitting on her bed, she stared down at the pouch of credits in her hands.

“Sodun changed his mind.” She had told her parents.

They only shook their heads.

“There’s always next year,” her father had replied.

It was wrong. Just because it was tradition, didn’t mean it was right. Everyone knew it, yet no one dared speak against it. The only way out was by escaping off planet or avoiding selection for the eight years of eligibility.

Only a few years left until she turned thirty, then she would be deemed unmarriable and therefor granted a relatively normal life, minus the ability to have children. Still a much better option.

She got up and walked out onto her balcony. It hovered just over the grass and had a view half of the small garden, and half of the street. Privacy wasn’t a thing in the city, especially this close to the casino.

Even if she made it three more years and gained some semblance of freedom, where was there to go? Cantonica was a desert planet. Other than a few scattered settlements and the city, there was nowhere to go.

This planet had nothing for those who cared about things other than money and gambling, and neither seemed particularly glamourous. Dressing up, dancing, even the music here, it was all fake. An illusion cast over the city to appeal to off worlders. Everything on the planet was fake, even the sea. Even her.

A glint of silver.

It was him again. Probably returning from the casino where Sodun had stole the credits from. The back of his helmet reflected the golden lights of the city. His cape swished with each step. He walked in the direction of the Canto Bight Docking Bay.

Was it a sign? Maybe he was the ticket off this planet. He was a bounty hunter, probably escorted criminals all over the galaxy, how would transporting her be any different?

She grabbed a pebble and threw it. A ding rang out as it made contact with the back of his helmet. In a flash he spun around, blaster aimed at her.

She threw her hands up, but the man holstered his blaster a moment later.

His shoulers dropped slightly. “Didn’t your parents teach you not to throw rocks at people?”

“I didn’t know how else to get your attention,” she replied, leaning on the railing.T

“You have a voice.”

This man definitely wasn’t from around her.

“My parents might hear if I shouted.”

Instead of answering, he stood there.

She waited.

He was silent.

Wasn’t he going to ask what she wanted?

“Well?”

She took a breath before speaking. “I was wondering if you could take me off planet.”

“I’m not a babysitter.” His response was instant.

“Please?”

He began to turn away.

“I can pay you handsomely!”

That caught his attention. He paused, his helmet once again turning to face her.

“All right,” he said.

He walked over, off the path and onto the grass. She ran inside and filled a bag with some clothing and necessities. When she came back out to the balcony, he was still waiting. He reached for her bag. She passed it to him then climbed over the railing. He held his hand out again, this time for her. She grasped it, jumping the short distance down.

He led her back out onto the street. Her sandals clicked against the cobblestone. Her long nightgown didn’t stand out amongst the dresses other females wore, plus everyone was too busy glancing at and away from the armored man.

The air was warm and humid as it always was. Would other planets feel different? Look different? Hopefully he wouldn’t drop her off on another desert planet. Or one that spoke a different language. Or one that was too cold.

He didn’t speak the entire way to the docking bay. It was refreshing actually, the silence. Especially after Sodun’s one sided conversation.

“This is it,” he said when they reached…some sort of old ship.

It looked like something discarded at a wrecking yard that was quickly fixed up. The complete opposite of the man’s impeccable armor.

“Eh Mando, you finally getting that unsightly thing outta here?” The alien caretaker called, waddling over on three legs.

So, his name was Mando.

“Did you fix the generators?”

“I did, probably should get them replaced, or better yet, get a new ship.”

Mando tossed some credits to the alien without a response. Satisfied, it waddled away again.

He fiddled with the controls on his vambrace for a full minute before giving up and banging the door of the ship. It shifted and finally opened with a bang as it hit the ground.

Was this thing safe to fly?

He climbed aboard, and gestured her in with his helmet. If he trusted the ship, then it had to work.

Despite the thick coating of dust and obvious ware and tare, it looked relatively unlived in. 

It was all one level. On one side, a narrow opening led to the cockpit, the rest was a cargo area. Behind an open door was a small refresher. Then on the far wall was a bench and a set of bunk beds. Not even the slightest semblance of privacy existed here.

“You can have the bottom bunk,” he said before heading into the cockpit.

She put her bag down on the foot of the small bed. It had sheets on it already, but like everything else untouched in the ship, it was covered in dust.

The engines fired up and the ramp shuddered and closed with a click. Everything rattled. Was it going to take off or fall apart?

She rushed into the cockpit and sat in one of the seats behind Mando.

The shaking only got worse as the engines powered up. While Mando calmly flipped switches and turned dials, she bucked herself into the seat and tightened the harness until it cut into her legs and chest.

“First time?” he asked.

She nodded vigorously, eyes darting from his reflection in the glass to the ground getting farther and farther away.

Finally. Finally, she was leaving. No longer the victim of an outdated tradition. Her fate was her own now. She could get a job, make her own decisions, have a life of her own.

The ship rose above the dark clouds and into the endless starry space above. Billions and billions of white specks all around. Each with its own planets and people.

Never would she have to dance again. Never would she have to listen to a man’s rambling if she didn’t want to.

Here, in the stars, she was weightless. Nothing to hold her. No tethers, no rules, no traditions.

“So you do smile.”

She looked away from the galaxy towards the blurred reflection of the armored man. She blinked, regaining some clarity from the tears, but more came.

Was this it? Here in space with this stranger, in this ship.

Was this happiness?


	2. Nevarro

“So you have any planets in mind?” Mando asked, breaking the silence for the first time since they took off hours ago.

“No,” she replied.

He swiveled in his seat to better face her. “No?”

“No.”

After a moment, he sighed. “Do you have a type of planet in mind?”

“No.” She looked the helmet where his eyes would be.

His shoulders slouched. “You didn’t think any of this through, did you?”

“No,” she repeated.

“Do you know any other words other than no?”

“Yes.”

With a frustrated noise, his helmet hit the back of his headrest. He swiveled back around to face the controls.

What? She answered all his questions honestly, what more did he want? Not like he was much of a talker either, which was nice. Nothing was worse then feigning interest.

Not like he was in a rush, either. His nav wasn’t set to any specific planet. He’d probably stop wherever to get supplies and do another mission, or whatever bounty hunters called their jobs. The longer he’d let her tag along, the more planets she’d get to see before deciding on one.

“Do you have a name, at least?”

Her eyes landed on his reflection on the window. “Atohra Asetka.”

He nodded, saying nothing further.

Once again, the cockpit fell to silence. Time passed slowly despite the stars whizzing by. Planets passed in and out of sight, each a different size and color. Even Canto Bight, the vast city that never slept, had disappeared into a horizon of sand as they left the atmosphere.

With each planet that passed by was an opportunity. But which one? Thousands dotted the outer rim alone. All she could hope for was to see as many as possible before the bounty hunter decided she got what she paid for and made her pick one. Or perhaps he would abandon her on one. That would at least make the painful task of deciding which was perfect a lot easier.

It was getting late, though. Or at least it felt like it. Time wasn’t really a thing in space, travelling sub light. Mando had grunted something about the one of the ship’s secondary hyperdrive engines not functioning.

She got up and went back to the refresher. The sonic was small and cold on her bare feet. The whole ship was cold. Probably the result of some other thing being broken.

Slipping her nightgown back on, she headed to bed. The single blanket was rather scratchy. Probably imitation govath-wool. Still, it was better than nothing. Better than being home. Or worse, with Sodun and wherever he came from.

.

She opened her eyes to a dark hull. All was quiet except for the rattling objects against the wall and soft breathing coming from the top bunk. The noise continued as she lied there. It sounded like…he was still wearing his helmet. Odd.

Ever so carefully, she got out of her bunk and around to the ladder up to his. She climbed up slowly, just enough to peek over his boots.

His boots?

Not only was the man on top of the blankets, he was still in full armor; helmet and all. Was—was he worried someone was going to attack?

Was he worried she was going to attack?

As flattering as it was to think someone like him feared what she could do while he slept, it wasn’t even close to accurate. Even her self defense skills were pitiful.

What was he afraid of? Her somehow incapacitating him and then commandeering his ship?

He’d taken down Sodun in a matter of seconds. It probably took more effort dragging him back to the casino than it took to capture him. And she was nothing compared to him.

Mando’s helmet tilted up. “Need something?”

Atohra flinched, her fingers losing grip on the ladder, grabbing it again before falling off completely.

“No,” she said and dropped back onto the floor.

A loud sigh came from his bunk.

She wrapped the blanket around her shoulders and sat down. How much longer till they got…somewhere?

A few more minutes passed before Mando got up as well. He climbed down the ladder and went straight to the cockpit, not sparing her a glance.

She followed him and sat in the same chair she did the night before. Maybe her presence would get him to talk more, or at least tell her what his plan was.

Mando sat back in his chair, gazing out the front window. Despite the ship’s dilapidated state, it flew well enough.

She wrapped the blanket around her legs and over her feet. First chance she got she’d buy some warmer clothes. And food.

Mando turned around in his chair to face her once again. He slouched back in it and crossed his arms, helmet facing her direction.

What now? Was he analyzing her?

He stayed like that for quite a while. Just looking. Or maybe he fell asleep? She tilted her head, maybe if she looked just right, she could see past the black visor over his eyes.

“Don’t talk much, do you?”

She jumped at the suddenness of his comment. “Neither do you.”

“I’m not the one sitting on the edge of my seat waiting for an opportunity to.”

Was that an invitation?

“So?” he asked.

Finally. “I was wondering where we were going first?”

“Nevarro to pick up supplies and get the engines fixed.”

“How long until we get there?”

“Three standard hours.”

“Ah.”

Well that wasn’t too bad. Nevarro was visible from Cantonica, or it would be if it weren’t for the light pollution. What would it be like there? It was a volcanic planet, if memory served her correctly. Probably not much better than the desert.

Mando had turned back around, standing up and flipping a couple of switches above him. He was about to sit down, but paused as Atohra adjusted the blanket around her shoulders.

Another sigh.

He got up and nodded at her to follow. She got up, joining him beside the bunks.

He opened a container full of what looked like dark clothing. “I’m hoping to get the ships heating fixed soon,” he said, pulling out a black piece of fabric and handing it to her.

Another blanket? It was softer than the one draped around her. Better quality, perhaps it was actual govath-wool.

He closed the lid and faced her. “You can wear that in the meantime.”

Atohra turned over the fabric in her hands. Was it a coat or…?

Stepping forward, Mando took it from her and put it over her head. He went back to the cockpit without another word.

It was a cape. The same that he wore. She took the blanket out from under it and placed it back on the bed, then pulled out her excess hair out of the neckline.

She went to the refresher. The mirror was cracked and hazy with a layer of grime, a smeared handprint across it made it clear that the armored man was in fact, human.

Well that and that he’d just given her his cape to wear.

The pleated neckline of the cape kept her neck warm, the color matched her hair, creating a frame of blackness around her face. Definitely different than the delicate silk she normally wore.

She left the bathroom and returned to her seat behind Mando.

“You can get more clothing when we get there. Stock up on whatever else you need too.” He paused. “Unless you like it there and decide you want to stay.”

“I wouldn’t mind going to at least a few other planets before deciding. Or however many my credits will get me.”

He half faced her. “How many credits do you have?”

“About ten thousand New Republic.”

Mando fiddled with a knob. “Is that a…normal rate?”

“To buy a wife from Canto Bight?” When he didn’t acknowledge her humorous tone, she dropped her shoulders. “It’s on the lower end.”

“Keep them.” He turned away.

Wait, what? He was just going to do it for free? That didn’t seem very characteristic of a bounty hunter.

“Just don’t get in the way.”

.

The ship shuttered and groaned as it landed on Nevarro. Mando gave the door a solid kick before it finally dropped down.

She gaged. What the hell was that smell?

“You’ll get used to it,” Mando said as he walked over to the mechanic’s building.

Yeah, that was unlikely. It smelled worse than the year five Hutts came to the ball. This planet definitely wasn’t what she had in mind for a home.

From the window of the ship it looked to be a barren waste land cut apart by rivers of lava. One of them flowed from the small city, seemed like it might be a liability.

Mando finished negotiating with the mechanic and placed a hand full of credits on the table. She followed him back out.

He briefly stopped. “You can meet me back here at fifteen hundred local time if you want to explore.”

When he turned to leave, she stood there. Exploring the city was a good way to immediately get lost, or worse, into trouble.

It wasn’t Canto Bight, it was a foreign place, completely different. Which were the good places? The bad places?

What even was the local time?

She hurried after him.

The streets were crowded with all walks of life. Most people talked lively while browsing vendors. Somewhere behind them a parent disciplined their child for skipping school. A few people even nodded in Mando’s direction, while others gave a sideways glare.

Mando rounded a corner and entered a building. He didn’t say anything when she caught up to him earlier, so following him into the building was probably okay if he didn’t say no.

Inside sat a woman dressed in light armor. Judging by the size of her arms, she was a warrior. Though at the moment she was nodding off, feet up on the desk in front of her.

“Sleeping on the job?” Mando asked.

The woman shot up, but relaxed when her eyes landed on him. “Yeah well you try staying up all night dealing with a gang war.” She stretched. “Long time no see by the way. Who’s your little friend here, a bounty?”

“This is Atohra.” He then gestured to the warrior woman. “And this is Cara Dune, the marshal.”

“Nice to meet you,” Atohra said.

Cara merely nodded at her, keeping her attention on the armored man. “You didn’t answer my question.”

“She was a target. I was offered extra to find her safe haven,” he replied nonchalantly.

Well he wasn’t lying.

Cara gave him a long look, clearly conveying something to Mando beyond the need for words. Analyzing the armored man was useless, the helmet was nothing more than a blank stare, gazing at whatever it pointed towards. Maybe the marshal could read him better, they acted like friends at the very least.

After what could have been minutes, he turned to Atohra. “Stay here for a bit. I have to meet someone.”

With that, he left.

“He’s helping you for free, isn’t he?”

She faced Cara. “I did offer him all my credits.”

Cara swept over her with her eyes. “Looks like you could use it to buy some clothes.”

Atohra pinched the silk of her dress. “Yeah, I packed in a hurry.”

“Come on, I’ll show you around. I could use a walk and food anyway.” Cara said and stood.

After a rather silent meal, they navigated the crowded market. Atohra nearly tripped on a pair of Jawas running past, some strange trinkets in their arms.

While people stepped aside to let Cara though, they had no problem bumping into Atohra. The pungent smell of the planet wasn’t so bad here, masked by scents of strongly seasoned food.

A droid greeted them as they entered a small clothing shop. The entire room was filled to the brim with fabrics, some hung on walls and some piled on the floor in tall heaps. The droid busied itself folding the piles into something more presentable.

Cara stepped farther into the shop, shrugging. “Hey, it’s cheap.”

There were so many clothes, and she could choose any of them—pants, sleeves, boots—anything!

“It’s great, thank you Marshal Dune,” she replied and went straight for the nearest pile.

Not wanting to take up too much of Cara’s time, she chose the first things that looked appealing. A black halter style top that would cover her torso, a beige robe that could be worn over it with a wide belt to keep it in place.

Next were baggy pants that could be tucked into a pair of light weight boots. As she placed the items on the counter, a pair of half sleeve fingerless gloves caught her eye. She bought them too.

Cara showed her to the changing room. Inside she carefully took off Mando’s cape and placed it on the bench. Her silk dress easily slid off her shoulders into a pile at her feet. She put on the halter top, pants, and boots. The planet wasn’t too cold, so there was no need for the robe. She slipped on the gloves that ended just above her elbows.

She picked up her dress, the robe and Mando’s cape. Reaching to open the curtain, the cape slid off the pile of fabric in her arm. Just as it was about to land on the floor, she caught it with her free hand.

The last thing she needed was to get Mando’s cape dirty. He’d done so much for her, it would be a slap in the face to wreck something of his due to carelessness.

She put it back on. Better safe than sorry.

“So,” Cara said as the exited the shop, “Mando’s cape, huh? How longs that been going on?”

Her tone suggested a lot more than her words did.

“Oh, his ship’s heating is broken, that’s all. I only met him yesterday.”

Cara nodded slowly. “Huh.”

They walked through the crowd, back towards the quieter sector.

“Speaking of Mando, I have a question.”

Cara looked down at her with a raised brow.

“Does he ever take off his armor?” Her eyes met Cara’s. “He was sleeping with his helmet still on and everything.”

“No, never.” She acknowledged a man walking past. “I’ve known him for a while now and the most I’ve seen is the back of his head. Showing his face goes against his code or religion or whatever.”

“What religion is that?”

Cara frowned. “He’s a Mandalorian. Did you not know that?”

“No.” Atohra shook her head.

“Where are you from again?”

“Cantonica.”

Cara stopped just short of the marshal building. “You’re a Sulvarian Daughter, right?” She crossed her arms. “You would know all about extreme outdated traditions, then.”

Atohra followed Cara into the building.

So he was from a planet of what—warriors? Did he have a choice then? To become a Mandalorian, or was he forced to? Wearing a helmet all the time must be exhausting. No peripheral vision, no fresh air, no freedom to express himself.

Speaking of which, Mando himself now sat at Cara’s desk, hands folded together over his chest, reclined and possibly sleeping.

“Took you long enough,” he commented, not moving.

So he was awake.

Cara half sat on her desk. “Did you talk to Karga?”

“Yes.”

“And, I was right, wasn’t I? No sign of Imperials.”

He sat up. “This isn’t over. Not yet.”

“Gideon’s in jail with only most trust worthy of the New Republic dealing with him. The kid’s going to be fine.”

The kid? What kid?

Mando only sighed. Cara opened her mouth to say something more, but he spoke first, helmet turning toward Atohra. “What do you think of Nevarro?”

Nervarro was…something. Not bad, but not good either. Not to mention, like Canto Bight, it was a lone city on an otherwise desolate planet. Confined. Trapped.

“I don’t mind it, but I’d like to keep looking.”

“Suit yourself.”

.

The mechanic was tightening up the last few bolts when they returned. “I replaced one of the hyperdrive engines, and fixed the other,” he said. “Hard to find parts for these old models now days. Should be working at about fifty-seven percent. Probably not a good idea to go much faster, the ship would rattle itself apart.” He began crawling down the ladder. “You should really consider upgrading. Even your Crest was better than this hunk of junk.”

“It’s fuel efficient,” came Mando’s terse reply.

The mechanic shook his head and walked back to the building. “Uh huh.”

They boarded the ship. The mechanic must have done something to the ramp, because it opened the first time Mando pressed the button on his vambrace.

Inside, Atohra put her clothing on the bed and resumed her place in the cockpit behind the armored man.

The Mandalorian.

They must have been rare, not once has one ever popped up in Canto Bight before. Or perhaps they just weren’t the gambling type.

Though if they were bounty hunters, the casino was probably teeming with crooks with money on their heads. Crime and gambling went hand in hand, at least on Cantonica.

Unless all Mandalorians weren’t all bounty hunters.

The ship hummed to life and launched into the sky. It shook considerably less, most likely due to the fixed engines.

Soon enough, the planet was a rounded surface of gray below.

Mando made no mention of where he planned to go next. Cara had suggested a few she liked that she’d been to before, but Mando only nodded in acknowledgement.

Hopefully the trips would be shorter now that the hyperdrive worked, it was already getting colder in the ship.

Her eyes settled on the refection of the Mandalorian helmet that looked down at the controls. Judging by the amount of credits he spent on fixing the engines, he probably had to get more work before he was able to fix anything else. Too bad she didn’t have skill in anything more than dancing. And according to him, even that was lacking.

Without warning, Mando spun around in his seat to face her “If you want to say something, just say it.”

Atohra’s back met the seat. His statement was a lot more direct than usual. Had she done something to annoy him?

His posture relaxed. “You’re not on Cantonica. You don’t have to follow all the strict rules you had before.”

“I know that. Look what I’m wearing.” She held up her arms to show the absence of silk. “Not to mention I didn’t brush my hair today, nor apply any makeup.”

“I meant the no talking one.”

“I talk,” she defended.

He folded his arms, leaning back. “When prompted.”

Was he trying to trick her? “Well yes, because you are a man and I am a woman.”

“That sounds a lot like a rule.”

What was he talking about? Other than the rich women and the outcasts from off planet, no girl ever spoke first. “It’s not a rule, it’s just how it is.”

“Not in the rest of the galaxy.”

The galaxy was a big place. School had taught her that much. The Cantonica Sulvarian Women’s School was known for its inclusive curriculum, and absolutely none of the planets she’d studied had women in any position of power. Not the Empire, not the Old or New Republic. None.

“Uh huh. Ill believe it when I see it.”

He abruptly swiveled back towards the front. “We’re going to Sorgan next. It’s the complete opposite of Nevarro. Not much of a population. Peaceful.”

He said the last part more quietly. He’d probably been there before, though it seemed like a strange place for a mercenary to go. Maybe for a vacation. Did he wear his armor there too?

“Marshal Dune told me you were a Mandalorian. What exact is that?”

He sighed.

.


	3. Sorgan

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Star Wars, the fandom of red squiggly lines under every name. Thank you so much for the support and reviews!

“So you chose to become a Mandalorian, you weren’t forced to?”

“Yes, once foundlings come of age, they may choose which path they take.” Mando’s attention was half on her and half on the ship’s controls. He fiddled with what looked like the navigation system.

Atohra put her feet up on her seat, her boots discarded on the floor. “Yes, but why?”

“I owe my life to the Mandalorians, it is only right.”

“Technically, I owe my parents my life, but if given a choice, I’d never become a Sulvarian Daughter.”

“They are two very different things.”

He was sure stubborn in his ways. Yes he was very different than her, but at the same time, he wasn’t that different at all.

“I mean fundamentally. They both take away freedoms that we could have otherwise. Surely never taking off your armor gets tiresome after a while.”

He flipped a couple of switches, swiveling in his chair. “I do take it off, just not around people.”

“Oh.” So she was the reason he slept in full armor. Not because he was afraid of what she might do, but because it was against his code.

There wasn’t much she could do, though. The ship was all once space, the only privacy being the refresher.

“What if I promised to not crawl up to the top bunk?”

“Unfortunately, your word doesn’t mean much to me.”

“Oh,” she repeated. Well Alright then. There wasn’t much else she could do in that case. 

“Hold on, we’re about to enter hyperdrive,” he said. His helmet glanced back at her. “And don’t worry about it, doesn’t bother me.”

Her body sucked back into the chair as the ship surged forward. The stars blurred and the black empty space around turned a radiant blue, forming a tunnel made of energy.

The ship settled back down after a minute. Gravity returned to normal and she could scoot forward to better look out the windows. Learning about Hyperdrive theory in school had nothing on actually experiencing it.

She placed a hand on the window, leaning closer. “I never thought I’d get to see the galaxy.”

“This is just the outer rim, and I don’t plan on leaving it.” He stood up. “We’ll reach Sorgan in a few hours. Time to get some rest.”

Her eyes followed him out of the cockpit. A second later the refresher door clicked shut.

With no sense of time, following the Mandalorian’s lead was a logical course of action. She took her boots to her bunk. The hum of the sonic meant he was going to be occupied for at least a minute. She threw her clothes off and pulled her nightgown over her head.

She laid her robe and Mando’s cape over the blanket for extra warmth. The pillow was a little chunky, but comfortable enough.

Soon they would arrive at Sorgan. Mando had said it was a fertile planet, with huge trees and water. It sounded nice enough, but what would the people be like?

Mando opened the door in his full armor. Not even a bit of skin showed, even the tips of his fingers and the nape of his neck. Like it was forbidden to have an individual identity.

He disappeared into the darkness when he turned off the light. Only the feint glow of hyperspace surrounded his silhouette as he walked over to the bunk bed and up the ladder.

No matter what he claimed, it couldn’t be comfortable sleeping in armor like that.

.

They landed in a small clearing. The sun was still low in the early hours of the morning, peeking from between the tree trunks . 

Atohra walked up to one of the trees. It, like many of them, were huge compared to the few that dotted Canto Bight. They were wild, growing however they pleased. Wherever they pleased.

She ran to catch up to Mando. It didn’t look like he was following any kind of path, just navigating the brush as he went.

What kind of village didn’t have a path, or even a ship hangar? Sorgan must have been one of those places people went that didn’t want to be found.

A couple of buildings came into view. They looked withered, made of thin slabs of wood and tree trunks. Smoke billowed up from stone chimneys.

She followed Mando inside, greeted by warmth and the smell of food. Only a couple of others sat at various tables, mostly human and one twi’lek who sat alone in the corner.

Mando spent an extra moment scanning the small building, letting his line of vision rest on the male twi’lek for only a moment longer than anyone else.

They sat down at one of the tables closer to the door.

“Well look who it is,” greeted a woman approaching the table. “I see you brought a new guest this time.”

Atohra glanced between the woman and Mando, but he made no reply.

The woman shifted. “So, uh, what can I get for you?”

“Nothing for me.”

She turned to Atohra. “Anything for you?”

“Whatever the special is, please.”

After the waitress left, Atohra’s gaze dropped to the table. It made sense Mando didn’t order anything, since that would require taking his helmet off, but wasn’t he hungry? When did he even eat? Maybe he wasn’t even human, but a species like one, that didn’t have to eat as often. Or maybe—

“You’re doing it again.”

Oh. Was she?

“Why don’t you get food and take it back to the ship to eat?”

“I ate this morning before you woke up.”

Everything he said was a statement, not leaving any room for negotiation. Like he was set in his ways and there was nothing anyone could say to change that.

After she finished her food in relative silence, Mando got up. Something about his body language said he didn’t want to stick around.

They walked around the settlement. Morning business was in full swing. People hung clothing from lines between their homes. Down the main street various vendors opened, selling what looked like handcrafted wares. A group of amphibious aliens hammered away at a half built house.

Everyone greeted everyone. Their smiles, genuine and their postures, relaxed.

This place was the complete opposite of Canto Bight. Even the air smelled fresh and clean. Mando made a good choice coming here. It was…perfect.

Mando stopped near a shop with a couple of dilapidated speeder bikes parked out front. “You up for a ride?”

“On one of those? No.” The thing looked like it could barely run. And even if it could, she’d probably go flying off the back.

It was too late, Mando had already put credits in the shopkeeper’s hand. He went around and sat on the bike, starting it up.

The thing rumbled loudly as the Mandalorian waited for her. As per usual, she had little choice in the matter.

She walked up to the bike, there was some space behind Mando which was probably where she was supposed to sit. A little close for comfort though.

Using the seat for leverage, she hoisted herself up. It wasn’t terribly uncomfortable despite the warmth that radiated from it.

Mando’s helmet turned back to her. “You might want to hold on.”

There wasn’t much to hold on to. He had the handles and other than that, there was nothing.

The speeder took off. Before her butt left the seat, her arms shot out and around the Mandalorian’s waist. Her hands clasped tightly together over the hard metal of his armor and her chest pressed into his back.

The bike only went faster. There wasn’t a chance in hell that she’d let go.

They weaved through trees and around marshes. Was there another settlement he was going to? They long passed the ship, but there was no indication of which way they went.

As time went on, her arms grew tired and her grip loosened. Mando’s input was smooth and his speed was steady. Slowly she peeled her torso away from his. Refreshing wind blew against her face and neck. Mando sat on his cape, but the one she wore billowed behind her.

The speeder wasn’t so bad. In fact, it was actually kind of fun. She unclasped her hands, resting them instead on Mando’s sides.

Everything was visible from the bike, from the bushes to the tops of the trees. The wind brushed her eyelashes and caressed her skin. Her mouth ached, but she couldn’t stop smiling.

Her eyes met Mando’s T-visor in the mirror. His helmet tilted back to face ahead. He twisted the handle and the speeder went faster, darting between the trees.

A laugh escaped her throat. How could something as simple as a speeder be so much fun?

She let go of Mando completely and put her arms out, catching the wind in the palms of her hands.

The sun shone above, the forest was lush and green, the water glistened.

Mando had quite the life, travelling from planet to planet as he pleased. How many more like this one had he been to? He could go anywhere he wanted, do a job, go somewhere else.

The speeder slowed down when a tiny village came into view.

It was bigger than the previous settlement, arranged in a circle inside man made ponds. Bit of fence surrounded parts of the water, deep gouges on the other side of it. People dotted the area inside.

Mando got off the speeder a ways away. The villagers caught sight, many of the kids running over.

“Mando, Mando!” they called.

The Mandalorian said nothing, even when the kids reached him.

None of the children acknowledged her, instead they hovered around Mando and the speeder as if they were looking for something.

“Mando, where’s the baby?” A little girl asked.

“Yeah, Mando!”

What was this talk about a baby, and why would Mando have one? Didn’t seem like his job or way of life was suited to having a kid. Wait, was it the same kid Cara had mentioned?

The kids continued to ask as they walked to the village.

A woman with long dark hair waited at the edge. A gentle smile decorated her face, her eyes set on Mando. She closed the distance, suddenly embracing him.

He didn’t return the embrace, instead just standing awkwardly while it happened.

A strange relationship.

“I didn’t think you’d return,” she said, letting him go. “Is the child well?” Her eyes scanned his figure as if looking for it.

“He’s gone. I returned him to his kind.” His voice was quieter than usual.

The kids gathered around voiced their sadness at the news. The woman looked like she was about to reply, but Mando spoke first.

“This is Atohra, she’s considering Sorgan as her new home planet.”

“Welcome, Atohra. I’m Omera, the matriarch of the village.” Her eyes travelled between Atohra and Mando. “Will you be staying for a few days?”

“Just for the night.”

When Mando didn’t give further explanation, Omera nodded and led them to the settlement.

Mando didn’t like to stay in one place for long, at least that was what it seemed like. Was he in a rush to find someone? Or running away from someone? Did it have something to do with the child?

Omera stopped in front of a round building. “You can have the barn again, Mandalorian, if you’d like.” She faced Atohra. “And you may stay with me and my daughter.”

Both her and Mando thanked Omera for her hospitality. She then took them on a tour of the rest of the village, introducing Atohra to various people and talking about the battle that occurred a few months before when Mando had first come.

The day grew late by the time Atohra was settled. Mando had retreated to the barn to eat in privacy. From her spot on the steps up to Omera’s home, she watched said woman linger near the barn.

Omera obviously had feelings for Mando, she did little to hide it. Mando was harder to read due to his helmet. All she could guess was that he wasn’t oblivious to her feelings, merely indifferent. But who knew with that guy.

Over to the right was a group of people currently piling up wood in the center of the village. A womN berated one of the men for slacking. It was an odd sight, seeing a woman talking down to a man. Maybe there was something to what Mando had said about the rest of the women in the galaxy. Maybe it was more equal.

Women didn’t fear speaking their minds here. Omera was even the head of the village. Everyone listened to her, and she was a widow.

The sky darkened as the bonfire flared to life. The towering flames were bigger than in any fire place on Cantonica. It was bright enough to light up the whole village in a vale of orange that danced and flickered with the breeze.

Villagers flocked to it, sitting on logs and stones arranged around it, talking loudly. The smell of stew filled the air making her stomach growl.

“You going to sit here or come eat?”

She flinched at Mando’s voice. Where had he come from?

When he turned away, she got up and followed him to the fire.

Almost as soon as she took the spot next to Mando, Winta, Omera’s daughter, handed her a bowl of blue stew.

“Thank you, Winta,” she said, accepting it.

Winta tilted her head. “Why don’t you ever smile?”

Atohra blinked. “I…”

Mando leaned forward, resting his arms on his thighs. “She does, but only when she thinks no one is looking.”

Her head snapped towards Mando. “No. That’s not true!”

It didn’t matter if anyone saw, in fact it was encouraged. Her mother’s grin popped into her mind. Always, always smile. That’s what men like. A quiet girl with a pretty smile. No matter how uncomfortable.

“I don’t like lying.”

Winta’s brows furrowed and a frown formed on her lips. “So…you’re not happy?”

Atohra shook her head. “No. But I’m not sad either.”

“Wintra,” Omera called. “Other people need their soup too.”

Wintra perked and hurried away. “Yes mama.”

Music started up. A few of the villagers played wooden flutes and one tapped on a small drum. The sound was lively and melodic, each of the flutes harmonizing perfectly along to the beat.

Kids rushed to finish their soup, stacking the bowls and jumping up to dance. Adults joined shortly after, if what they were doing could be called dancing.

They waved their arms and tapped their feet without care, barely keeping in time. Men danced with women, kids danced with adults. An odd sight.

Atohra leaned over to Mando who sat back with his arms crossed. “You say my skill is lacking, look at theirs. Just making it up on the spot.”

“Yes, their having fun.” As Mando’s helmet turned to her, the firelight flashed against it.

“That’s a thing?” Dancing was a display, not an activity. This wasn’t dancing, it was something else entirely.

Or was it the other way around?

Mando turned back to the joyous people. “You should try.”

“Yeah sure, as soon as you do.”

The Mandalorian’s chest rose and fell with a sigh.

As the night went on, more and more people danced. Spotchka spilled from glasses as they clanked together. They laughed and sung along to many of the songs.

In a way, it did look kind of fun.

Omera wandered over to Mando, her eyes were alight with their own fire, perhaps something to do with the blue liquid they all drank. She held out her hand for him to take.

“Dance with me,” she said.

Mando’s posture stiffened. His helmet jerked between Atohra and Omera. Despite his unseen face, his mortification was palpable. 

And he made fun of her for not wanting to dance? She shook her head, refusing his silent plea.

Omera grabbed his hand. “I insist.”

A groan escaped the Mandalorian as he peeled himself off his seat. Omera beamed up at him, immediately pulling him over where the others were dancing. She took both his hands in hers and moved to the music.

Mando more or less stood still, only his arms moved with Omera’s. Occasionally, he took a step forward or back, but lacked any sort of rhythm.

Omera finally acknowledged his awkwardness, taking a step closer and guiding him better with her arms. Finally, he found the timing of the song and moved to it, despite the lack of enthusiasm.

The song ended and Omera spoke something to him. After a pause he shook his head. She slowly released his hands. Her smile lingered, but her shoulders dropped. She gave a short nod and turned away to occupy herself with collecting empty dishes.

As another song began, Mando navigated through the crowd back to Atohra. Instead of sitting down, he repeated the same gesture Omera had done to him, holding out his hand.

“If I had to do it, so do you.”

There was something about the song, something about the way he spoke. “Alright.”

She took his hand and joined him with the others. With their hands clasped, she swayed to the drums. Mando followed her direction. His fingers were stiff between hers and his motions were a bit forced.

The gaze of his helmet traveled between her and the others around that moved and swung.

The song picked up, whimsical and flowing. Freeform wasn’t something she knew, every song was an intentional set of movements, stop and start, stop and start until she got it.

But this wasn’t that. Here she was free like the rest of the women.

She closed her eyes and just…moved.

Mando followed, his grip loosened and his steps lost their rigidity. He let go of one hand as she spun, then took it again, immediately falling back into the rhythm.

When the song ended, they danced to another.

.

The village was slow to get up the next morning. Even Omera sat at her table with a cloth on her head when Atohra entered after a morning walk through the trees.

“I didn’t think I had that much to drink.” Omera looked up at her.

Atohra sat across from her at the table. “I would have had more, but I’m not sure I like the taste.”

Omera smiled. “So what do you think of the planet? We’d love to have you if you’d like to stay. Being a krill farmer isn’t the worst job in the galaxy.”

“I like it a lot, but I do want to see a few others first. I’ve lived my whole life on Cantonica, I want to see as much as the galaxy as Mando will let me before I settle again.”

“The Mandalorian does have a soft spot for those in need.” She turned her head to the window. “He’s done so much for us. I only wish I knew his name.”

Wait, did she miss something? “I thought his name was Mando.”

“Mando? I thought that was a nickname.”

A nickname for what? Mando—Mandalorian. “Oh wow. Forget I said anything.”

Omera let out a peal of laughter.

Someone knocked on the door. “Atohra, it’s time to go.” A pause. “Unless you decided to stay,” the Mandalorian continued more unsure sounding.

Atohra got up and grabbed her bag while Omera opened the door, greeting Mando—or the Mandalorian, was it?

How did she not catch that?

After breakfast, Omera stood among the villagers waving goodbye. Atohra got on the speeder behind Mando, placing her hands on his sides.

With a nod, Mando sped into the forest. The man apparently wasn’t fond of long goodbyes.

The wind had a nip to it, so she kept her body close to his. Trees past by faster than her eyes could follow.

Mando jerked the handles to the side. Her hands lost their grip. The speeder disappeared from under her.

She slammed into the ground, rolling a few times before coming to a stop. Mando landed near her, jumping back up onto his feet.

Wha—what just happened? One second everything was fine, the next she was here. The speeder laid on its side, next to a metal plate. A magnet?

White flashed from the boarders of the clearing they landed in. Men in suits. Stormtroopers. Dozens of them. What were they doing on Sorgan?

“Surrender!” one called. All of their blasters were pointed at Mando.

Atohra sat up. Her arm throbbed, and her back. One of the troopers directed his aim at her.

Mando didn’t move. His blaster was in his hand, pointed at one of them. Ever so slowly he lowered his arms, crouching as if putting his weapon down.

The stormtrooper stepped closer. “Nice and easy, now.”

In a split second, Mando sprung back up, shot the trooper and dove in her direction. Blaster bolts ricocheted off his armor as he grabbed her. His body shielded her on their way behind a huge tree trunk.

Her back hit the tree. Shots continued to ring out, some hitting the tree and others flying past. Mando stood next to her, shooting at the troopers from the cover of the tree trunk.

“We have to get to the speeder,” Mando yelled over the blasts.

The speeder wasn’t far, but it wasn’t close either. And there was no way she was leaving the cover of the tree.

A vast shadow covered the clearing. Above, a massive starship materialized through the clouds. The ship landed in the middle of the clearing, the stormtroopers never letting up.

“Ceasefire,” A woman’s voice commanded over the noise. 

The clearing went quiet.

“Come out Mandalorian. I wish to speak to you.”

“Tell your men to lower their weapons and I’ll consider it.” Mando replied, not leaving the protection of the tree.

“You heard him. Lower your blasters.”

Mando peeked out. They must have complied, because he fully stepped out.

Well if he thought it was okay to leave cover, then she could surely peek. What did the Empire want with him? They weren’t even supposed to exist anymore!

In front of the ship stood a girl, about the same age, if not younger. She wore maroon robes and her curly black hair was tied in twin buns on top of her head. Her eyes stood out the most though, dark and predatorial. A woman who got exactly what she wanted.

“I suppose I should start by thanking you.” Her sharp gaze rested on Mando. “Because of you, I’m the new Moff of this sector. My father’s failures will become my victories. But In order to do that, I need you to give me the child.”

This was about the child? What made one kid so special? And if it was, why didn’t Mando have it anymore?

“He’s out of your reach.”

The Moff shook her head. “I’ll be the judge of that. Now, please enlighten me to its whereabouts. I would hate for things…” She waved her hand. “to get messy.”

Five troopers walked down the ramp and behind her. Unlike the others, these ones were black and moved like droids. Unless they were droids.

“I believe you met my father’s dark troopers. I’m afraid my fleet isn’t as extensive yet, but I’m working on it.”

This woman was terrifying. How did she convey so much power? Even Mando froze on the spot.

“I’m not telling you anything,” he finally said.

“Well you can’t judge me for trying it the easy way.” She looked at her nails. “Kill them.”

The troopers raised their blasters. Mando jumped back behind the tree just as they fired.

“What are we going to do?” She looked up at him.

He didn’t answer, instead looking between the troopers and the speeder.

There was no way they could get to it, get on, and escape without being shot up.

“We have to run.”

“What, why?”

Mando shot at a few of the troopers. “The dark troopers are closing in. Once they get to us, we’re dead.”

Was that what was causing the ground to rumble? There was no way she was going to look though.

“I’ll cover you,” he said. “Stay behind me.”

A bolt hit the tree, bark splintered off, cutting at her skin. “No. I can’t!”

Mando shot at another. “We don’t have time to argue!”

“We’ll die if we leave!”

He grabbed her arm and hoisted her up. “We’ll die if we stay.”

Leaves and branches fell around them. Bark flew past them with each shot. Her ears rung from the barrage of noise.

“Now,” Mando shouted.

Her back was forced off the tree and out into the open. Bolts clanked off Mando’s armor, just missing her. The speeder was in sight. Behind Mando’s body were the forms of the dark troopers only a few meters away, a sea of white behind them.

One of the dark troopers had a larger gun than the rest. It raised it up, aiming it straight at them.

Time slowed as it lit up with red light, it’s bang louder than the rest.

She reached out, past the Madalorian’s chest, like she would catch the bolt in the palm of her hand.

Everything froze. Mando. The troopers. Even the red bolt mid air. The last moments of life. An eternity in a moment.

Then a wave. Pain. Everything went flying.

Atohra landed on the ground. Troopers hit the side of the imperial ship. Mando crumpled under a tree that bent backward.

Her vision faded in and out. Movement caught her eye.

“Moff Ahila, are you alright?” A stormtrooper helped lift the woman off the ground.

The woman, Ahila, coughed. Her eyes met Atohra’s. “I’ll be back for you,” she wheezed out.

She limped away in the stormtrooper’s arm, boarding the ship. Many of the troopers followed, leaving the rest that remained motionless on the grass.

Was Mando okay?

She rolled onto her side. Mando chest rose and fell, but was otherwise still.

She forced herself up. Everything hurt. Her arms and legs felt more like led than limb. Still, Mando needed help. They needed to go.

“Are you hurt?” she asked once she crawled over to him.

His helmet fell to the side, facing her. “You’re—” he groaned. “You’re one of them.”

What was he talking about? He must have hit his head. “One of what? That doesn’t answer my question.”

“A sorcerer. A Jedi.”

“I’ve read about Jedi, and I’m definitely not one. Now come on, let’s just get off this planet before they send reinforcements.”

Mando grunted as she helped him up. Hopefully the ship wasn’t far.


End file.
